


To Be Alive

by coffeexwhiskey



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, AryaxGendry - Freeform, Comfort, Coping, Death, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gendrya - Freeform, Healing, Marriage, One Shot, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 22:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20347939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeexwhiskey/pseuds/coffeexwhiskey
Summary: “Does it feel this way?” she asked.“What way?”“Nothing. You feel nothing as if you’re not even alive.”“A part of us dies with them,” the woman replied easily.She eyed the woman curiously, “But I feel like all of me died with him.”“That’s how it feels at first,” was the woman’s response, “It will slowly feel better even though it really is not,” she added.





	To Be Alive

When Jon knocked on her door that evening, she knew something was wrong. She didn’t ask him, only gave him her usual hug whenever he came to visit her. But Jon’s embrace was tighter than ever, she reciprocated it knowing what was coming next.

Without a word, she guided him inside the house and they both sat in the couch facing the coffee table in front.

Jon studied her face for a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder, running his warm hand up and down until it reached the center of her back.

She sat there, staring blankly on the glass table before swallowing the harsh lump on her throat.

“What do I have to do?” she asked.

“There was nothing much we could do but take whatever’s left-“

“What do I have to do, Jon?” she asked again, cutting her brother off.

Jon hesitated for a moment, closing his eyes he said, “Just prepare yourself for the service.”

She nodded meekly.

“I’m going back to bed. If you want to stay you know where the guest’s room is. Just lock the door if you want to leave.”

Without giving her brother another glance, she stood up and walked up to the stairs to the masters’ bedroom feeling lighter with each step she took.

She saw the dirty clothes left on the corner of the room, the usual white shirt, and grey sweatpants. Turning her head away from the lump of clothes, she saw the bottles of perfume that were hardly touched. At the edge of the dresser stood a blue and yellow frame of him and herself during Robb’s wedding.

She walked to the large bed in the middle of the room, looking over the mismatched pillowcases and sheets.

She sat on his side of the bed and ran her hands on the cold sheets. She laid on the side that wasn’t hers. The scent of him still lingered on the pillows making her feel dizzy as she closed her eyes.

No tears.

No screams.

Nothing at all.

She tried not to think about it. She had prepared herself that this might happen. She thought she would be ready if it happened. But she wasn’t.

She opened her eyes, looking straight to another photograph sitting peacefully on the nightstand. Their wedding photo.

Carefully, she reached out to the back of the frame and took out the ring that he’d left.

That was always the spot.

She ran her fingers through the golden band, reading the letters engraved inside, _I am hers._

She clutched on to the ring, holding it close to her chest as she waited for sleep to come.

But it never did.

She walked to her closet and took out a hoodie, lazily putting it on and walked out of the room still holding on to the object that bonded her to him.

She found Jon lying on the same couch they sat on when he came. Taking the spare blanket from the wooden chair at the corner of the room, she draped it over her brother carefully not waking him up.

She took the set of keys from above the fireplace, pocketed them and left the house silently.

The breeze of the cold night didn’t bother her. Not because she was from the North, but because she was numb.

She physically couldn’t feel anything, walking soullessly, aimlessly.

She stared on the road, allowing her feet to take her wherever it wanted to take her until she reaches the small park a few blocks away from their house, _her_house.

There on a bench near the steady pond, a person sat.

As she shuffled to the walk closer to the park, she saw the person look at her.

The woman didn’t budge or react as she sat on the bench beside her.

They both silently stared on the dark water, embracing the cold wind.

“What made you come here?” the woman asked.

“My husband died,” was her simple reply.

The woman didn’t show a surprised reaction nor sympathy or remorse.

She didn’t mind.

“You?” she asked back.

“A year since my brother died.”

She just nodded.

Silence again.

The woman turned to her left when she heard a squirrel running around the trees from behind them, something she ignored.

This was comforting. If she was supposed to feel sad about the death of her husband, the silence and the presence of the woman was comforting her.

Finally, after almost thirty minutes or an hour, she doesn’t know, the woman spoke again, “What happened?”

“Military,” then she looked over to the woman who was looking over the water; she thought they had the same expression on their faces. “Your brother?”

“Cancer. DNR.”

She hummed as a response.

“You were married for long?” the woman asked carefully.

Absentmindedly, a small smile crept on her face, “Three years, was supposed to celebrate our fourth in two months.”

The woman nodded.

“Does it feel this way?” she asked.

“What way?”

“Nothing. You feel nothing as if you’re not even alive.”

“A part of us dies with them,” the woman replied easily.

She eyed the woman curiously, “But I feel like all of me died with him.”

“That’s how it feels at first,” was the woman’s response, “Meera.”

She raised a questioning brow to the woman’s last word.

“My name’s Meera.”

“Arya.”

Meera nodded acknowledging her.

“It will slowly feel better even though it really is not,” Meera added.

“He always warned me,” Arya’s voice was so small, “He said I should be prepared just in case one day he never comes home.”

Meera smiled at her meekly, “No matter how hard we try to prepare ourselves, we will never be prepared for death. Especially the people we love.”

“For me, I knew it was about to happen. But still, the pain’s still so bad. I can’t hardly look at him or my parents. Even after everything. Even after a year.”

“That’s why you’re hear in the middle of the night?” Arya asked.

Meera nodded.

“What did you do?”

“I tried to live,” Meera looked at her honestly, before looking back on the pond, a smile on her face. “Because I know that’s what Jojen would want me to do. I did the things we were supposed to do together, climbed up mountains, tried painting, went snowboarding…..,” she heaved a soft sigh and looked back at her still with a smile on her face, “I lived for him.”

Arya stared at her for a moment before uttering, “Gendry. His name was Gendry.”

Arya doesn’t know why but saying his name made her feel lighter, but in a good way this time.

“Well Arya, you should live for Gendry,” Meera tapped her hand softly.

Arya nodded.

“Now tell me, what did you two want to do together?” Meera asked.

She thought for a while. She thought of how Gendry planned to visit Bravos once he’s back from this mission. She thought of the plan they had on renovating their kitchen, taking half of the brick walls replacing them with glass because they wanted the kitchen to be brighter, allowing the sunlight to come inside. She thought of how Gendry joked about the possible adoption after trying for a baby for years and failing again and again. Gendry was so adamant of saving apples that fell far from the tree. So they decided to adopt but that they wouldn’t stop trying.

She smiled to herself, remembering the look on his face when she agreed to adopt the little girl, Weasel.

She was left on the steps of a church and when she was brought to the orphanage, the blanket that was wrapped around her had a little cartoon weasel on it and that’s what the people at the orphanage named her.

The smile faltered on her face, thinking that they were about to finish the adoption process. But now he’s gone. Gendry’s gone.

“Arya?” Meera called after receiving silence from her.

She looked at Meera with a sad smile, “We were supposed to adopt little Weasel. But it seems like that won’t be happening anymore.”

“Why not?” Meera’s eyes were soft, kind, “Did you both want her or him?”

Arya chuckled tiredly, “Her. And yes. We both wanted to have Weasel.”

“Do you think you can do it?”

Arya opened her mouth about to give out a ‘no’ but then hesitated.

She has a house and the room beside theirs was renovated a few weeks ago in preparation for the little girl’s homecoming. 

She has a job that allows her to work from home and pays the bills quite well.

And Gendry adored her.

She remembered the way Gendry held her the night after they signed the papers, the way he talked about taking her to school, fetching her after he leaves the camp for his day duty. He talked about how happy he was to be able to share a love that he never had. And Arya remembered how she kissed him that night, telling him how she can’t wait to dress her up and go on trips in Winterfell. For her family to meet little Weasel and play with the snow that never seemed to stop from falling. She slept that night with an image of Gendry and herself with little Weasel sleeping in between them.

Arya felt Meera’s eyes were still on hers, she smiled, truly this time, “I can do it.”

———————————

Arya was running back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom then to the living room trying to collect everything they needed.

She was back in the kitchen pulling Weasel away from the refrigerator where she had her head stuck inside, “Come on now, there’s no more chocolate in there little missy. It’s all in your bag.”

Weasel was about to argue when the doorbell rang. Arya heaved a sigh of relief, dropping Weasel on the couch where their things were.

“Hello!” Meera was all smiles when she opened the door, “You don’t look so excited to visit your family,” she commented after eyeing Arya from head to toe. “You still haven’t changed!” she added.

Arya huffed exasperatedly, running a hand through her messy bun, “Little miss sunshine chose this day to throw a tantrum all because she wanted chocolates,” she walked inside leaving the door open for Meera.

She passed by Weasel to place a quick kiss on the top of her head, “Watch her for me please,” she ran up the stairs to change. Meera was already helping Weasel with her chocolate.

——————-

They were settling their things on the back of Meera’s SUV, Weasel already on her car seat when they heard the screeching of tires.

Jon’s car hastily stopped a few feet away from them.

Arya and Meera stood on the pavement, both looking perplexed as Jon came out of his car. Without missing a beat, he shoved a piece of paper to Arya’s hand.

“What is it?” Arya asked, confused.

“Just ready it,” Jon urged her heartily.

Arya ran her eyes through the words, at first slowly but as she read on, she let her eyes do all the work, her brain a few seconds behind.

“Mommy! Let’s go,” Weasel whined from the car.

Meera who was reading along from Arya’s shoulder, rushed to the little kid to hush her down.

Arya shook her head. She looked at Jon with wide eyes, who looked at her happily, nodding like a crazy dog. Then she stared back on the paper.

“I-I don’t… Jon, I don’t… I don’t understand,” she felt like she just ran a marathon, she was running out of breath. She clutched on to the paper, eyes returning back to her brother asking for an explanation.

“Remember they never found his tag?” Jon asked eagerly.

Arya just nodded.

“That’s because he had a close combat, I don’t know the details but it was pulled from his neck,” Meera was now holding Weasel as she listened to Jon intently, Arya still looking dumbfounded.

“He suffered a bad head concussion, causing his short term memory loss and instead of heading back to camp he ended up to the local village where they took him in. When the locals realized they couldn’t help with his injuries they brought him to this small hospital I don’t know where but he was treated there and he was in a coma the whole time.”

Jon’s words took her a minute to absorb.

“But how come no one tried to-“

“Remember we were in civilian clothes because we were off duty when it blew up,” Jon explained.

Arya took a deep, deep breath, “Ok, I really don’t care about that at the moment I just-“ she took a big breath again, “I just want to see my husband.”

A big smile grew on Jon’s face, “Get in Meera’s car. I’ll take you to him.”  
  


———————–

“He’s been transferred. I haven’t seen him, I thought you’d want to be the one to see him first,” Jon explained as they walked through the white halls of the hospital.

Her hold on Weasel tightened as she realized they’re getting nearer. She kissed the little girl’s cheek; the warmth relaxed her a little bit.

Meera ran a hand on her back. Arya passed a thankful smile to her as they turned on one corner.

“I can hold Weasel while you go inside,” Meera send softly, opening her arms to take Weasel who just stared at the adults questioningly.

Arya kissed her forehead and forced the most comforting smile she could ever give her, “Mommy will be back in a moment.” Weasel nodded.

Arya held Meera’s gaze then Jon’s before opening the door.

It was dark, except for the television screen that played silently in the corner of the room.

She took one step inside when she heard a shuffle from the hospital bed then a click from the table lamp made her halt her steps.

Then it was bright.

And he was here.

Sitting up from his lying position.

Her husband.

Gendry.

Arya let herself fly into his arms.

She stifled a cry as he felt him tighten his grip on her body.

She felt his breath on her neck as he buried his face on the crook of her neck.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered through her sobs, “I thought I lost you,” she said again.

“You never did,” she heard him say in his deep, gravelly voice.

Arya chuckled into his hold.

She couldn’t believe it.

After almost a year of thinking she had lost him, here he was, holding her, speaking in his low voice as if he was just with her the day before.

She reluctantly pulled away from him. Her vision was blurry thanks to the tears, but despite that she knew it was him. He ran his thumb on her eyes and cheeks, drying her tears so she could clearly see his warm blue eyes that never failed to cause tingles down her spine, the dark tousled hair that never seemed to like a comb, his sharp jaw that she missed running her hand through- loving the feeling of his stubble and his lips that are always chapped.

She smiled, running a thumb over his dry lips.

She leaned in to kiss him, pouring all her emotions into his lips as he did the same. They conveyed their sadness, their grieve, their pain, their love into the kiss.

She was alive again, before she was just living.

When he pulled back, cradling her face with his hands, Gendry pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“I’ve missed you,” she heard him whisper.

“You have no idea how much _I’ve_ missed you,” Arya said softly, locking her eyes to his.

“I’m sorry-“

“Shhhh. There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she nodded encouragingly for him to agree.

“Still I’ve put you through so much, making you think I was gone,” Gendry had tears in his eyes again, still holding her face close to his. “I’m sorry.”

Arya shook her head. “Stop. You didn’t want it to happen. No one did.”

She pressed her lips against his.

A knock echoed in the room, making them pull away from each other.

The doctor along with a nurse entered the room.

He asked permission if he could turn on the main light in the room, receiving a croaky ‘yes’ from Gendry.

“Oh! You must be Gendry’s wife,” the doctor stretched out a hand.

“Arya,” she shook his hand.

“I’m glad to finally meet you,” as the doctor explained Gendry’s current condition, the nurse walked around the room, studying the monitors and listing the stats on her clipboard, checking the IV drip and so on.

Arya was relieved to hear that Gendry’s head concussion was healing properly. But because he had some broken ribs and a crushed left femur, he will need therapy and rehab.

Overall, the doctor was happy to say that Gendry’s doing well, recovering perfectly.

“Well, I guess I best get going. Do you want me to call your other visitors?” the doctor pointed to the door where the nurse was waiting patiently.

“Visitors?” Gendry asked in confusion. He looked up to Arya, who was standing beside him, holding on to his hand the whole time.

Arya smiled, “Yep. You have visitors waiting outside,” she ran a thumb through his knuckles.

“Well I should let them in,” said the doctor, waving goodbye.

“Who is it?” Gendry asked as soon as the nurse and the doctor left the room.

Arya gave him a quick peck on the lips, “Just you wait.”

There was knock on the door before Jon came into view, a huge grin on his face as he let Meera in holding a yawning Weasel.

Gendry returned Jon’s beaming expression, excited to see a friend, a family again. They crashed into a warm embrace before Gendry’s eyes travelled to the woman who smiled at him meekly.

Gendry stared at her questioningly.

Then the little girl reached out to Arya. He blinked once, then twice.

“Weasel,” he spoke softly.

“Look who it is,” Arya bounced the little girl in her arms. Weasel just stared at Gendry, who had a nervous smile on his face.

“It’s daddy,” Arya encouraged, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Hi there,” Gendry cautiously held a hand out to Weasel who only stared at him, confused.

“It’s daddy, remember?” Arya moved closer so Gendry could reach Weasel.

He held the little girl’s face with a hand, looking up to Arya who was wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“We should give you some time alone,” Meera suggested.

Arya shook her head.

“It’s fine…” Gendry’s voice trailed off, not knowing her name.

“Oh this is Meera,” Arya filled in quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Meera responded offering a hand to shake Gendry’s

“Are you…” Gendry left his question open as he eyed Jon and Meera.

“Oh no!”

“We’re not…”

Both Meera and Jon answered in unison.

Arya just laughed, still wiping her tears that never seemed to stop.

“Meera’s a friend of mine,” Arya smiled sweetly to her new best friend, “She taught me how to live.”

Meera returned Arya’s smile.

Gendry understood right away, “Well thank you Meera,” he said kindly.

Meera just gave a nod along with her smile.

Weasel gave a loud yawn making the other’s laugh and giggle.

“Do you want to take a nap with daddy?” Gendry offered, scooting over to the side to give Weasel some space who crawled from Arya’s lap to lie beside Gendry.

Arya watched the pair, Gendry awkwardly wrapped an arm around Weasel who was starting to doze off.

Never in a million years did she think she could have her husband back. But here he was. Cuddling with the daughter they wished to share their life and love with.

She looked over to Jon who was looking over the bed satisfyingly, relieved.

Then she met Meera’s gaze, passing her ‘thank you’ through their eyes.

She’s not just living. She’s alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this past midnight because I'm was an emotional mess last night.  
I bet there's no consistency with the tenses, but I still hope you like it. <3


End file.
